


It’s Not a Big Deal (AKA 7 times Eduardo hid his eating disorder and the one time he is caught)

by casey_sms (shinygreenwords), shinygreenwords



Category: The Social Network
Genre: Community: tsn_kinkmeme, Eating Disorder, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prescription Drug Abuse, Promiscuity, Reconciliation, Self-Harm, Tiếng Việt | Vietnamese, Translation Available, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian, 中文翻译 | Translation in Chinese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-23
Updated: 2010-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-14 00:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinygreenwords/pseuds/casey_sms, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinygreenwords/pseuds/shinygreenwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>It becomes a thing. Eduardo doesn’t eat when he’s stressed. When he does, it usually comes up. He hates the taste of vomit in his mouth so when he’s really stressed, he just doesn’t eat. </i>A response for <a href="http://tsn-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/390.html?thread=164486#t164486">this prompt</a> at <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/tsn_kinkmeme/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/tsn_kinkmeme/"></a><b>tsn_kinkmeme</b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It’s Not a Big Deal (AKA 7 times Eduardo hid his eating disorder and the one time he is caught)

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning/Kinks:** eating disorder (bulimia – not for emetophobes), prescription drug abuse, promiscuity and casual sex with OFC and OMC in Eduardo’s teen years  
> 7 because 5 wasn't enough :O
> 
> I am so very honored and lucky to have three translations of this fic. [LadyOfTheFlowers](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfTheFlowers/pseuds/LadyOfTheFlowers) translated this story into Russian [here on AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/674461). [](http://chexue.livejournal.com/profile)[**chexue**](http://chexue.livejournal.com/) translated this story into Chinese [here](http://chexue.livejournal.com/784.html). Yeti translated this story in Vietnamese [here](https://dongphongthieu.wordpress.com/2014/08/08/chang-he-gi-its-not-a-big-deal/). I thank you all.

1\. It begins in middle school. He eats a burger and fries for lunch. He doesn’t want to be hungry for his history exam because it’ll distract him. He can already hear his father saying that he has to ‘maximize his potential’. He throws up before the exam. It’s probably just nerves. Luckily he had some water with him so he doesn’t have to sit the exam with the taste of vomit in his mouth.

2\. As a senior in high school, he had to study for his college entrance exams. Not only that but his father wanted him to get a scholarship (“It’s not about the money, son, you need to be better than the rest to be deserving of one.”) So sometimes he threw up before and after the exams.

It becomes a thing. Eduardo doesn’t eat when he’s stressed. When he does, it usually comes up. He hates the taste of vomit in his mouth so when he’s really stressed, he just doesn’t eat. Everyone has their own superstitions about exams. It’s not weird. It’s not a secret or anything. He just doesn’t really talk about it. Which isn’t a big deal. It’s college. People don’t eat that much unless they are high because there’s so much other stuff to do: people to have sex with, drugs to take, parties to go to, assignments to do, professors to beg because you haven’t done said assignments. People like to list it in that order as if that’s the order of importance but really it’s the reverse.

But he’s ok. More than ok. He’s had a growth spurt. He no longer had his chubby baby fat. Eduardo is tall and skinny with dark hair. His friends tease him for being all tall, dark and handsome. Girls told him they found him sexy.

He gets a girlfriend, Maria. She’s got lovely full breasts and long blonde hair. She also likes to talk a lot after sex. He doesn’t mind it. She doesn’t seem to mind that he doesn’t say much either. They are good together.

She often tells him she likes seeing his ribs. “It’s sexy,” she says.

Eduardo is dubious. The way she was saying it made it kind of gross. He liked eating ribs but being compared to ribs wasn’t great. But the sex was good. And sexy is good so he guesses she has a point.

Eduardo likes being able to control it. He no longer needs to do anything undignified like sticking a finger down his throat.

When Maria dumps him, Eduardo goes out to get shitfaced. He meets Ryan in the bathroom. Ryan blows him and Eduardo returns the favor. It turns out he’s really great at giving blow jobs. Eduardo has already mastered the gag reflex.

3\. Of all the people in his and Mark’s friendship circle, Eduardo is glad that it’s Dustin that finds him on his knees worshipping the porcelain god. Dustin who never takes things seriously.

“Are you ok mate?”

The first thought Eduardo thinks is shit. He’s going to know. It makes him want to throw up just thinking about it. His stomach churns painfully. Fuck. He heaves then spits into the bowl.

“Are you ok?” Dustin asks again.

Eduardo lies, “Just stupid initiation rituals.” He winces at the sound of his voice, it’s horrible. His throat is getting really tender since he really did have a hangover a day or two ago. It’s hard to keep track of everything. He’s stressed out from all the Phoenix stuff. He’s probably thrown up twice every day this week and three times on Sunday.

Dustin doesn’t even wrinkle his nose at the smell of the vomit. He walks off and Eduardo thinks that’s it. Too easy. He didn’t even have to talk about. He leans on the cool tiles. At least it’s a dorm toilet and not a public restroom.

The peace does not last long. Eduardo feels a lurch and he leans over the toilet bowl again. It’s only dry heaves now. There’s nothing left to throw up. Still the heaves leave his eyes watering.

There’s a glass of water in front of his face. He drinks greedily for a few sips but then the hand pulls it away. It’s Dustin.

“Whoa. Easy there. Slowly ok? Or you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Thanks,” Eduardo croaks. He feels bad for lying.

“I made my hangover remedy.”

“What’s in it?”

“Do you really want to know?”

Unfortunately, the remedy makes him puke. It’s disgusting.

Dustin is wiping his hair from his face, rubbing his back.

“You’re really good at this,” Eduardo mumbles.

“Got practice,” Dustin says matter-of-factly. “My dad was a drunk.”

“Shit. I’m sorry,” Eduardo says.

“Don’t be.” Then Dustin tells him a joke and he laughs even though it makes his stomach hurt.

4\. So he has this really important term paper due for Society and Economics (a filler subject really “but you’ve got to look well versed in everything” his father said) and an exam for Macroeconomics worth 70% in the same week. His dad has been riding him extra hard ever since he got a D and not a HD in a subject he let slip he thought gave everyone distinctions. Of course, he should be better than everyone else. Economics is his degree, not a major so he has to be good at it. He’s doing really badly in macroeconomics because the professor is really boring. Ok and he might have been working on an algorithm to rank chess players so he could impress Mark but still he keeps falling asleep in classes. Which isn’t helping. He feels exhausted between the studying and the pressure to do well.

Sometimes the pressure feels like too much and he wishes he could force it out from him. He knows this trick, if he leans forward slightly and pushes slightly on his stomach followed by a quick contraction, it’s almost like a heavy sigh. Effortless.

Eduardo spends three days straight writing the paper and he knows it’s good because he had one of his friends who already graduated to check over it. He totally owes Matthew a drink.

The exam is one day after. Eduardo crashes after the paper and sleeps for eighteen hours straight but when he wakes up he crams for the exam. He throws up everything he eats even though he tries to make sure he’s not running on empty before an exam. Even the diet shakes come up again. Everything. He stops eating because he doesn't want to make himself sick. He has a hollow pain in his stomach throughout the exam and he forces himself to work through it. He has to do this and do it well.

He gets a HD for both those subjects. While Eduardo’s online checking results, he opens up a new window to check on Mark’s blog. Mark’s broken up with Erica and he sounds really unhappy.

On the way to Mark’s room, Eduardo wonders if he should bring anything. Ice cream is a good comfort food right? He buys a pint of Mark’s favorite. Eduardo winces when he thinks of the fat content but it tastes good and it comes out easily.

5\. Mark likes eating his food. It’s because he’s lazy and can’t be bothered getting his own but Eduardo likes it when Mark eats his food. He pretends to get mad when Mark steals his fries but he never stops him. So Eduardo likes to make sure Mark eats and if the things he eats are often Mark’s favorites, Mark doesn’t say. Mark thinks Eduardo gets him food to eat because he cares. It’s not that he doesn’t but Eduardo is getting him food so much as feeding him his own food. Most people don’t really care to investigate if he says “I ate on the way” or “I’m full, thanks” but he learnt in high school that if he doesn’t get his tray in the cafeteria, people get suspicious. So Eduardo gets his food and if he eats and gets rid of it later…that’s his problem. Mark never notices so it’s good. He likes taking care of Mark. Being taken care of is a good thing. He really likes Mark. Unfortunately, Mark doesn’t notice this either.

At first Eduardo thought that Mark might be asexual but then he dated Erica so Mark is most probably straight. But Erica didn’t last that long and Mark spends all his time with Eduardo when he’s not in classes or working on some project. It’s confusing. It’s stressful to be around Mark. Luckily Mark is often too busy coding and when he’s not he’s thinking about coding so Eduardo can slip him his food before disappearing off to the bathroom down the hall.

And if Mark isn’t eating his food, he has to feed his chicken. It’s a good arrangement. If he doesn’t eat, there isn’t anything to throw up. He’s being careful. He doesn’t want to make himself sick. Sometimes when he throws up too much, his ribs ache from the heaving and he spits up blood. He knows not to over do it. Smelling of vomit all the time would be definitely fall under the ‘negative influences on your potential’ list that his father recites all the time.

Right now, Eduardo's stomach is doing gymnastics and he’s fighting the urge to purge because he’s about to go to a party with Mark. He spent ages thinking up a way to ask him. Even as friends. He’ll take what he can get. No, he’s not going to fuck this up.

He’s fine until Mark is in his room. In his room where he sleeps and jerks off while thinking about Mark. Oh God. He runs off to regurgitate the rest of the lasagna they served for lunch. Anyway, he needs to look good for the party. For Mark. It’s the second time today though. His throat is a bit sore.

Mark calls through the bathroom door. “Wardo? Where are… Are you all right?” Actually, he’s trying to slide it open because it’s totally normal to barge into the bathroom when your…friend is puking.

“Um. Don’t come in. It’s kind of gross. I’m fine though,” Eduardo says while pouring out some mouthwash. He has three bottles of Listerine on his sink. He shoves them in the cabinet under the bathroom sink so it doesn’t look like he has really bad breath or something.

“No you’re not. You sound terrible.”

Eduardo gargles and winces at the burn of the alcohol. He pops a mint as well. Just in case. He squeezes himself through the door then closes it behind him. “I’m getting over a stomach bug. It was probably just the disgusting mystery lasagna that didn’t agree with my stomach.”

“You’re sick,” Mark says flatly.

“No! I’m fine,” Eduardo says, feeling his chances with Mark slip away into a lonely night. This is not happening. When he can tell Mark is unconvinced, he sadfaces Mark with his best doleful ‘I need you’ look. “Please. I wanted us to have a good time tonight.” It sounds like he wants to fuck him which he doesn’t but it’s kind of wrong to sound like he does. He has to stop himself from feeling so mortified he has to throw up again.

“I just don’t think we should go out while you’re like this.” Rushing on because he can’t stand more of Eduardo’s Bambi-eyes which is making him feel like he’s the asshole who shot Bambi’s mom, “Come on, I get the dorm to myself since Dustin and Chris are going to the party. I have a bootlegged version of this weird Chinese movie and I ripped this cool game,” Mark says casually. It’s worth it to see Eduardo’s smile, his eyes lighting up.

It’s even better than the party, like almost a date. They watch the bootlegged movie Mark while makes snarky commentary throughout it, imitating the Chinese words. There aren’t any subtitles so he has no idea what the fuck it was about. But he would have spent most of the movie looking at Mark anyway so it might as well have been in Chinese.

They play the game after. Eduardo beats Mark at the game. It turns out he’s pretty great at driving games because he doesn’t like to damage the car. He drives carefully and economically.

Mark tries to wrestle the controls from him and he ends up sprawling all over Eduardo.

“Dude your bony elbow just ruptured my spleen,” Mark complains but he’s smiling and they continue to play like that, limbs tangled together.

6\. Mark totally thinks this Sean guy is a God. It makes him feel sick. He excuses himself from the table.

7\. Christy is crazy. That is, she is incredibly picky about some things. She won’t have a coffee at the carts around the university or any of the small dive cafes because she thinks it’s dirty. Eduardo is secretly relieved because there aren’t any restrooms nearby and he would have had to walk around with a greasy muffin or a wilted salad with tons of mayonnaise-masquerading-as-dressing and gritty coffee in him.

He also likes that she is random enough not to say anything about his lame excuses to use the bathroom nearly every time they eat out together. “Me too,” she’d say, “I need to freshen up” before rummaging through her bag for something.

She jokes that he spends longer in it than her. “Like, what do you do in there?”

Eduardo always distracts her with a Listerine laced kiss. She tastes sweet. He knows the taste. He would know. It’s Wrigley’s Extra Spearmint Sugar Free gum that you can buy in packs of three.

After sex, she traces patterns on his chest, she says, “Did you know that God created Eve from Adam’s rib?”

Eduardo hums absently and thinks about when he should tell her that he has to leave for New York.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine,” she says, kissing each of his ribs. “Your ribs are my favorite body part of yours.”

+1

Eduardo has obligations to attend the annual shareholder’s meeting for Facebook. He’s missed the past two years and sent a representative but then the press got all over it calling it an ongoing feud. What do people expect when your now ex-best friend cuts you out of the company you founded and you sued him for it? He’s sick of being asked, “Do you still consider Mark Zuckerberg as your friend?” (His cookie-cutter answer: “Mr Zuckerberg is the CEO of the company that I invest in. That is all you need to know.” And if pressed, “My feelings towards Mr Zuckerberg are irrelevant to my investments in his company and the subject at hand.”)

So he flies in from Singapore and attends the goddamn thing. He’s tired and jetlagged but he hasn’t been sleeping that well anyway so it’s nothing new. There’s nothing dramatic about it in itself. It’s your usual boring shareholders’ meeting and Eduardo can feel his concentration drift. It’s nothing he doesn’t already know. He wishes the guy presenting would hurry up because he doesn’t really care about the other investors. Facebook is doing well? That’s great. It’s just another one of his investments, albeit his most successful one. The charts on the screen fly by and he can feel his vision blurring around the edges. Eduardo just wants to go home. He’d leave early but then the press would be all over that too. Eduardo sighs and glances subtly at his watch. Half an hour more of speeches then maybe half an hour more of milling around. In the last intermission, he snags a glass of water and takes a pain pill. It’d be easy to beg off that but people expect him to. No, he’s going to play it to the tee. They’re not going to be able to get anything from “I’ve moved on” from his appearance this time. God knows he’s heard enough speeches from his father about how it makes him look weak.

After Mark does the final speech everyone claps and it’s time to do the social dance. Eduardo’s hyperaware of Mark’s presence. He thinks everyone else is too. He’s not fooled by the business world. The gossip is just as bad as high school. Or worse because people hide it better.

Whenever the servers comes around with the pretentious hors d'œuvres, Eduardo takes one and eats it even though it’s not good for him because it’s his own fuck you to Mark. Pay for this asshole, he thinks as he nibbles on a salmon tart thing. He chews it carefully just in case he has to get rid of it plus he’s stalling for time in his conversations. Twenty three more minutes to go.

Eduardo smiles and nods. Yes, I am here douchebag and I can play this game too. Why yes, I’m fine thanks for asking. Yes, Mark fucked me over but I’m still an investor in his company and isn’t that ironic? I’ve moved on, I’m not following Mark around like a lost puppy, no sir. You think I’ve lost some weight? Thanks for making me sound like I was fat. No do go on and backtrack yourself out of my way. Yeah, I flew here and I’m not telling you where from. I’m looking after myself, no, no girlfriend or boyfriend. Just me. I’m very busy and I’m not completely miserable. I love my life see? I love being here.

There’s one old guy in a suit who actually seems concerned when he asked him how he was. Like he really cares. Eduardo is almost taken aback by that but he manages to cover it up. “I’m a bit jetlagged,” he says with just the right amount of truth and confession injected into it. The guy buys it, shakes his hand and tells him to look after himself.

Then Sean fucking Parker is there right in front of him, pressing a glass of champagne in his hand like the last three and a half years never happened.

“Hey, Eduardo. Nice to see you here. No hard feelings?” He raises his glass in a salute.

Eduardo gives him a tight smile and downs his champagne like he’s flipping him off. Yeah no, that probably wasn’t such a good idea with the pain pills. That and carbonated beverages remind him of drinking diet soda to help the food bubble up out of him.

“Excuse me,” Eduardo says politely. He puts the glass down in one of the trays and barely makes it to the stalls. The champagne and finger food comes out. He’s relieved.

He looks up cautiously. At least, Facebook HQ’s restrooms are clean. When he tries to straighten himself- Whoa. The room is spinning.

An arm appears out of nowhere to steady him and he's out of it enough, he doesn’t question it. He just hangs on.

“Wardo.”

He hasn’t been called that in two years, seven months and twenty seven days (they had angry words with each other once after the settlement). Mark doesn’t have the right to call him that or care about him anymore.

“Don’t touch me,” Eduardo snaps out, a little satisfied by Mark’s hurt look. Eduardo wants to tell him to fuck off but his stomach does a flip and he’s on his knees in front of the toilet. It’s humiliating enough to be seen doing that without your best-friend-come-rival-come-CEO witnessing you spewing out your meals in reverse order. Eduardo tries to stop it. He doesn’t want an audience. Usually he can at least make it happen faster but he’s so tired it’s just easier not to fight it. Fuck. He can watch if he wants. It’s not like he hasn’t heard it before. He knows Mark is still there, shuffling his feet, leaning against the door of the stall. With Mark there, he can hear himself make the ugly retching sounds and the pained pants between the heaving. Eduardo sits beside the toilet after a particularly nasty heave with one hand holding his ribs and stares defiantly at Mark. His throat hurts too much to speak. Mark has his phone dangling in his hands like he’s not sure what to do. For a moment, Eduardo is paranoid he’s going to take a photo and upload it on his Facebook or something. Then Mark opens his mouth and snaps it shut. He leaves.

Eduardo feels the familiar pressure building in his chest. He lets go. When he opens his eyes, they are stinging but he can see with some satisfaction that the Doritos he ate as a marker before he left the hotel room have resurfaced. He keeps going until the dribble of low calorie green jello Eduardo ate as a base on the plane emerges. He coughs tasting stale lime. He’s sure there’s nothing left but there’s a bit of bile that came up as well. Eduardo spits into the mess then wipes his mouth with a monogrammed handkerchief and flushes away the evidence. If only it were that simple.

Eduardo fishes out the travel-sized mouthwash he has on him and rinses the taste from his mouth. It’s not time yet but Eduardo doesn’t care. He goes over to the sink, washes his hands and pops another two pain pills. Dry. There’s no way he’s drinking water from a toilet. He coughs. Dry swallowing on a tender throat is painful even on pain pills.

Mark is waving a bottle of water in his face.

Eduardo takes it wearily, sipping it. He doesn’t think he could be sick again but he doesn’t want to test that.

“Are you ok? Actually, of course you’re not. You just brought up whatever you managed to eat when you’re not pretending you ate already. I saw you pop a pain pill earlier in the intermission and that’s two just right after you skulled the glass of imported French champagne. From the yellow container, I’m guessing that it’s not your everyday Advil that you’re taking like tic tacs. And I think I saw blood.” Mark paused. “You’re not talking which either you’re too pissed at me which I would actually prefer or you’ve damaged your throat enough that talking is painful.”

“Go ‘way.”

Mark stands and crosses his arms over his chest.

Eduardo drinks slowly, taking his time. “So I probably got food poisoning from your shitty finger food. What the fuck ever.” Speaking to Mark makes him revert to college speak.

“There was _blood_ , Wardo.”

He’s exhausted. He doesn’t bother to correct him.“Shitty food everywhere. It happens sometimes.” It would sound better if the last part didn’t sound more like a croak. He stares at Mark and wills him to believe the lie and leave him alone.

“No it doesn’t. Can you hear yourself? Have you said that enough that you actually believe your own bullshit? Let me tell you what I think.”

Eduardo gestures like ‘go ahead’ because he knows when Mark wants to say something, he will. Eduardo squeezes his eyes shut as if he could shut out the words.

“You have a permanent case of food poisoning. You had it in college too. Maybe before that. I thought maybe I was wrong. I wanted, I want to be wrong.”

“Wow, you should thank your therapist,” Eduardo says sarcastically but he’s used up most of his voice today with stupid small talk. It just comes out as a painful rasp, without any bite.

Mark talks over him, “Like maybe I was wrong about you not so secretly dating me. Or that I could have feelings for you.”

Eduardo’s eyes fly open. “I don’t want to talk about this.” He doesn’t even want to think about the college years that he’s spent the last three years trying to lock away. He’s thrown out the key. He’s embarrassed and they are in a bathroom and any moment now someone’s going to walk in. He pretends he didn’t hear the last bit. “Stop making a big deal out of this. It’s not a big deal.”

“You know, a lot of teenage girls get this permanent food poisoning also known as an eating disorder.” Mark is relentless. “For you, I’d say 40% anorexia, 60% bulimia. You’re a control freak and an overachiever. You’re a perfect candidate for an eating disorder.”

Eduardo flinches but doesn’t bother denying it. Mark is usually right and he is brutal when he is. “Fuck you. You never cared. You don’t care. You want to be right. Fine, you’re right. I’m fucked up. Be happy and leave me alone.” Eduardo turns to go but Mark latches onto arm, feeling Eduardo’s bony wrist under his tailored jacket.

“Well I do now,” Mark says. “Eduardo. Wardo. Look at me. I was in love with you too. I still am. I was wrong, I miss you and …I’m sorry.”

“What?” Eduardo thinks. When he looks at Mark, Mark is blurry and beautiful. He’s looking at him like he cares about him and it’s all Eduardo has ever wanted. He’s even apologizing. Eduardo’s not sure he’s hearing this right. Maybe he’s tripping on the pain pills. He must be imagining it. His stomach feels empty and his ribs hurt when he breathes. Maybe he’s overdone it again. He should probably eat something.

Eduardo is looking at Mark blankly. He still looks devastatingly good. Mark thinks fashion unfairly favors the unhealthy. Mark doesn’t know what to do. When Eduardo doesn’t resist, Mark pulls him in for a hug. Mark can feel his ribs through his shirt and the knobs of his spine are sharp under his palms. Eduardo’s thin frame feels so very fragile underneath the expensive tailored clothing. Mark has to crane his head slightly to whisper into Eduardo’s ear. “You took care of me when I needed you. Let me take care of you.”

“This isn’t real, ‘m going crazy,” Eduardo mumbles into the crook of his neck.

Mark doesn’t ever remember an Eduardo that isn’t like this. Softly spoken and sharp edges. It’s comforting and heartbreaking. Except this Eduardo’s body is lined with fatigue, his smiles are brittle and they’re not playing games anymore. Mark vows to himself that he will get that Eduardo back. He wills it with the same force that willed a entire social network into existence. “It’s real. I promise. Just let me take care of you, we can talk about this later.”

Eduardo is so very tired, he wants to, needs to crash somewhere. “Alright,” he finally relents when Mark pokes him almost too carefully. Knowing that Mark kept his secret for years even throughout the lawsuit, he knows he can trust him with this. Eduardo leans on Mark as they make their way out via a side exit. He likes the feel of Mark’s arm around his waist, solid and real. When Mark squeezes his hand, everything hurts a little less.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: For this fic, I googled Bulimia tricks. It made me feel sad about this. I hope I did it justice. The thing is I wanted to tie as much canon in it as possible. The chicken feeding thing actually makes me think Eduardo could have totally used that as an excuse to not eat as much D: I also wanted Mark to not catch it at first. Regarding the prompt, it requested college era Bulimic!Eduardo. I took it further as I thought it would be interesting to have Mark catch Eduardo after college, maybe as a way to get them back together. I'm a sucker for reconciliation in fics. Anyway hope you enjoyed it.


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